Intertwined
by Tempest Hale
Summary: Updated! Renji gets in above his head when he begins playing a game he doesn't know exists. First 3 chapters Renji's POV. Last 3 chapters Grimmjow's POV. RenIchi, GrimmIchiGrimm, RenGrimm. Yaoi. Other warnings inside.
1. Self Destruction

A/N: This story contains **M/M romance and sex; including rimming, anal sex, fingering, male masturbation, sado-masochism, and rough sex. **_**No underage readers please! **_**All others be advised.**

Also, this story has been edited to be completely in first person in order to sound more coherent.

* * *

The music reverberated throughout the smoky, crowded room; the walls shook with the force of the beat. My body too shifted from side to side, hot, close and in time. Sweat fell in swollen, heavy beads down the broad expanse of this bare chest, my shirt long forgotten in the heat of the dance. Long, unforgettably red locks fell in my face and I pushed them back with a trembling hand. I really shouldn't be having this much fun…

* * *

Boyfriend-sitter; how I got roped into this, I could no longer remember. I looked over to Yumichika who, dancing in the center of a crowd of ogling men, seemed to be having a ball. _I'm just glad that Ikkaku's payin' for drinks_, I thought to myself as I slammed back another shot of… whatever. The atmosphere of the club started to suffocate as my blood burned with alcohol, so I walked away from the bar, cigarette in hand, with full intentions of shirking my responsibilities outside. As I reached for the door, I turned to take on last glance at Yumichika – just to make sure he would be okay. _He's a big boy, _I thought._ I don't even really need ta be here._ Yumi was still dancing gracefully and being admired by at least half the club, so I stepped outside.

The night air felt clean and cool to my overheated body. I lit up my cigarette and took a long drag. I really didn't like clubbing. Most people looked stupid when they danced, and the music made conversation nearly impossible. Despite the tattoos, long hair, and generally hot-headed, standoffish way I tended to act, I really preferred to connect with people mentally and intellectually. How was anyone supposed to hold an intelligent conversation in a place where the music thundered so loudly that it could take from three to ten tries just to ask someone to dance? By the time I got an answer, I was usually so frustrated that I didn't want to dance at all. I checked my watch; it was only half-past midnight – I would be here a while, if Yumi had anything to say about it.

_Take him out and let him do whatever he wants. I'll pay for both of you, here's my card, just make sure he has a good time._ Stupid Ikkaku and his stupid business conference. _And make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble. I don't wanna get a call from jail, got it?_ Like I would let us get arrested. Again. I rolled my eyes and took the last drag of my cigarette; bliss.

As I re-entered the club, I immediately sought out my charge; easily a head taller than most of the patrons, I quickly identified the red and yellow feathers attached to Yumichika's face and reassured himself that my friend hadn't been hurt, or worse, gotten into a fight and hurt somebody else. Yumi spotted his red-headed escort and waved me over, but something had stolen my attention. The effeminate man followed my gaze; make that something a _someone._

I had just spotted Yumichika's feathers when a shock of orange, glowing in the black lights, caught my eye. As I looked more closely, I noted that the orange was actually hair, and that hair was attached to a head, a face, a sculpted chest… I blinked, certain that no man could possess the beauty of what danced before me.

Said orange-haired beauty moved with the thumping bass line, hips gyrating and pumping hotly. Captivated, I stared, eyes locked on the other's face. _Gotta stop staring. Just look away man. You can do it. Just look away before he notices, _I panicked. As I pulled my gaze up from the stranger's full lips, the orange-haired boy locked eyes with him. _Fuck! Fuck, fuck… he saw me. He's staring right at me… what do I do?_ I thought, still unable to look away. The man across the room continued his sensual dance as he beckoned me over.

A wave of nervous terror forced my stomach into my throat as I made my way onto the dance floor. I hated this music; I despised dancing; I needed to be leaving this place, not meeting with strange, god-like strawberry blondes. And dammit to hell, my body wouldn't cooperate! My feet dragged me forward, against my will.

As soon as I was close enough to the beckoning stranger to notice the kid's warm chocolate eyes, I heard the orange-haired beauty shouting over the music, "Hey, I'm Ichigo!"

"Renji."

"Wanna dance?"

_No._ "Uh… Sure." I got a bit closer to Ichigo before I began to dance.

The music reverberated throughout the smoky, crowded room; the walls shook with the force of the beat. My body too shifted from side to side, hot, close and in time. Sweat fell in swollen, heavy beads down the broad expanse of my bare chest, my shirt long forgotten in the heat of the dance. Long, unforgettably red locks fell in my face and I pushed them back with a trembling hand. _I really shouldn't be having this much fun_, I smiled, and wrapped my arm tighter around Ichigo's slim waist.

A buzzing in my pocket distracted me from the beauty in front of me. A text message from Yumichika.

_Called a cab. Have fun! Don't do anything unbeautiful._

Thank the gods for friends like Yumi.

"What was that?" Ichigo asked when I lost the rhythm of the music as I read the text message.

"Ah, just my friend. We came here together, but I guess he decided to leave," I tried to say as privately as the jam-packed club would allow.

"Oh, you came here with someone?" Ichigo had stopped dancing completely, and looked up at me with uncertainty perverting his perfect features.

"Yeah, uh, see, er, I was, uh, boyfriend-sitting," I replied. The blush staining my cheeks was no longer the result of alcohol consumption.

Ichigo paused for one fear-filled moment before erupting with laughter. "Seems like you kinda suck at it, eh?"

I scowled for a moment, ready to rip into the little shit for insulting me before I conceded, nodding. "Yeah, probably." Smirking shyly, I sidled closer to Ichigo. The orange-haired kid would pay for that comment. Dancing resumed until Ichigo stood on his toes to whisper in my ear, "Would you like to go somewhere more, uh, private?"

I could hardly believe the boldness of the question, but my instincts knew how to react; "My place isn't far." Ichigo motioned for me to lead the way, and we exited the club. Once outside, I lit up a cigarette to calm my nerves; for God's sake, I was nearly _trembling_ as I offered the pack to Ichigo. We smoked in silence as we walked to my apartment.

"Well, um, here it is," I lamely announced as I opened the door and flicked on the light switch. I gave Ichigo a sidelong glance, looking for any clue as to how exactly to proceed. Ichigo surprised me for the third time with his overconfidence when he pulled me inside by my arm and pressed me against the door with his body. Ichigo's hot breath overtook my senses as I was kissed gently; the strawberry-blond tangled his long fingers in my crimson locks as his tongue probed my thin lips, opening under his ministrations. Gentle explorations became a fierce battle – teeth and tongues clashing as we each fought to wrench throaty moans from each other. Hands roamed; mine finally resting on Ichigo's ass, I pulled the other to myself, trapped erections grinding together pleasurably. Ichigo leaned his head away from me, exposing his long neck as he moaned, "Fuuuuuuuck."

I used the position to my advantage and locked my teeth onto Ichigo's neck, nibbling at the tender flesh. I could feel my heart beat in my ears, thumping louder than the bass at the club, as I unbuttoned the other's shirt and slid it off slim shoulders to land softly on the floor. Moaning, Ichigo pulled on the long hair tangled in his hands and pressed his body to mine.

"We're not gonna make it to the bedroom, are we?" I mumbled, lips still attached to the long neck in front of me. I pulled away for one surreal moment to look at my soon-to-be lover. I had never witnessed anything as sexy as the flushed and panting man before me.

"I don't think I can wait that long," Ichigo responded, clumsily tugging on both his and my pants. When all our clothes lay in a pile around their ankles, I pushed the orange-haired man backward toward the sofa. The backs of Ichigo's knees hit the edge, and he sat down with a quiet but surprised "oomph." I remained standing; smirking at Ichigo, I guided the kiss-swollen lips to my erection. I watched in amazement, eyes glazing over in pleasure, as the orange spikes bobbed on my cock. I carded my fingers in the soft, slightly sweaty locks. I could hardly believe that any of this was happening – I hadn't even wanted to go to the club in the first place. I hated to think that I might have missed out on this. My thought process halted when Ichigo swallowed me completely, nose nestled in the patch of crimson curls.

"Fuck, that's good! Oh god, ah! I'm gonna- ah!" I pulled Ichigo away by his hair before I lost control. Taking in large gulps of air, I slowly reigned myself in. The cool air against my overheated skin felt as if I had lost something and I groaned, looking down at the extremely talented kid. Ichigo smiled almost dreamily up at me as he gripped his own cock. Slow, steady strokes had him breathing heavy and spreading his legs in silent invitation. I took the hint, leaving my eager partner for only a moment to grab lube and a condom from the bathroom – I thanked God that my flat was so small; it only took seconds to gather everything.

Upon re-entering the living room, my jaw dropped at the sight of Ichigo laid back, knees bent and stroking himself. I watched in awe as the younger man lifted his hips and two fingers disappeared – _oh fuck._

"Startin' the party without me?" my voice was husky but steady. The orange-haired man on the sofa didn't answer, but opened his lust-darkened eyes and smirked. I gaped at the bone-meltingly hot expression, and joined my hand with Ichigo's on the smaller man's member, kissing him deeply. I fucked Ichigo's mouth with my tongue, a symbol of what I really wanted to do with the kid. Licking and nipping my way down the beautiful body before him, I left a bruising bite on a creamy, perfect hip bone before reaching my goal. I lifted Ichigo's legs at the knees and planted a deep, wet kiss on the pink, stretched entrance. Ichigo moaned whorishly when my tongue pushed into him. He looked like he might explode when I added fingers. When I pulled away to slip on the condom and slather my cock with the lube, the strawberry sighed in disappointment.

"Ready for me?" Ichigo could only nod in response before I slowly entered him. The heat engulfed me, beginning at my groin and radiating torturously outward, growing stronger as each inch sunk into the lithe body writhing below me. Judging from the blush covering Ichigo from hairline to navel, the younger man was feeling the same heat as me. The flames consumed them; nothing existed outside their union – neither of us could rightly name the moment when the I began to thrust.

_Tight, hot…. oh fuck. So good. _Squeezing my eyes shut in an effort not to come embarrassingly quickly, I felt a bead of sweat traverse slowly down my spine. I concentrated on the trail of cooling liquid and slowed the movement of my hips. Just as I regained control, Ichigo rolled his hips to signal for more. He looked up at me through half-lidded eyes and, breathless, mouthed 'harder.' I groaned and snapped my hips forward while holding Ichigo in a bruising grip. The slap of skin on skin made heat rise in our faces. Ichigo's cock twitched at the sound, and I wrapped one hand around the pulsing member. Silky skin stretched over taut, corded steel throbbed, searing in my palm.

Ichigo moaned in time with my thrusts. I uttered a string of curses interspersed with half-formed words of encouragement, growing more incoherent as I neared my peak.

"Ah, fuck! So tight – "

"Take it. Yeah, take my cock in your tight ass. Mmmm, yeah, like that…"

"Feels like – like you're gonna squeeze my dick off! Fuckin' –"

"Yeah, you like that baby? That the spot?"

"Goddamn, you – "

"Oh, shit, I –"

"Fuck. Fuck! _FUCK!"_

I sped up my strokes as my vision went white, and I stilled my movements as I came, shaking and cursing. After a moment, I returned to reality and stared at Ichigo. My hand was still jerking the kid off, but I slowed the motion as I leaned down to kiss the orange-haired man. The exchange was gentler now, sensual and unhurried. I swept my tongue across Ichigo's lower lip before pulling away. With heavy lidded eyes, I gazed at my awaiting partner. Ichigo's eyes met mine and I gave a wink.

Pulling out with a soft 'pop,' I laid one hand on Ichigo's hard stomach and used the other to draw my sweaty, matted locks back from my face. I was eager to taste the kid, and spent no time teasing. I stretched my mouth around Ichigo's cock; taking about half the length and fisting the base as I sucked. Hard. The orange-haired man came violently, nearly ripping out my red tresses he had tangled in his fingers. He yelled, and then gasped for air.

I caught each string on my tongue and marveled at the taste. Strong, musky and something unidentifiable – almost sweet. I swallowed and lifted my head to face Ichigo. Soft snores greeted me – Ichigo had passed out. I laughed before picking the smaller man up and carrying him to the bedroom.

"I sure hope you planned on staying the night," I muttered and lay down beside Ichigo on the bed. As soon as I closed my eyes, I was asleep.

* * *

Bright streaks of sunlight streamed through the curtains, waking me from the best sleep I'd had in a _long_ time. I recalled the night before with a wolfish grin, and reached to where the orange-haired sex god should have been. The other half of the bed was empty.

"Dammit."

I jammed my face into the pillow and sighed, extremely disappointed. Though it was a random hook-up, I had been hoping for something more than a one-night stand. I had also wanted to make the kid pancakes for breakfast – I was no slouch in the kitchen, and I loved to show off my skills. I settled for grabbing all of the blankets, making a cocoon around myself and going back to sleep.

When I awoke the second time, I got out of bed and resolved to make pancakes for myself. Who cared if it was two o'clock in the afternoon? I walked around the other side of the bed and grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand, pulling my hair into a sloppy ponytail. As I pulled my hair back, I noticed a small scrap of paper on the floor. On the back of it was a quickly drawn picture of a strawberry, and a phone number.

"I guess it wasn't a one-night stand after all," I said to myself. As I ate my breakfast, I wondered how long I could wait to make the call.


	2. Distraction

It only took two days. The desire to have another night, just one, as mind-blowing as the last drove me nearly to insanity before I made the call. It seemed as if every waking moment was devoted to memories of orange hair, fantasies of pouty lips and hopes of having those long, lean legs wrapped around my waist. I woke to dreams of pounding Ichigo into oblivion, of forcing the kid to gag on my cock as I fucked his mouth, and cumming onto that gorgeous face. At work, I meandered through paperwork and projects; I was so distracted I nearly missed a deadline, but I hardly heard my boss ranting and couldn't bring myself to care. I was addicted.

On the third day after our encounter (_fucking amazing sex_), I finally picked up the phone and dialed the number Ichigo had left. I felt my heart pounding against my ribcage and my palms begin to sweat. I took a deep, shaky breath and on the third ring, promptly hung up. There was no way in hell that Ichigo, the veritable sex god, could ever want anything to do with me. I had nothing to offer to such an alluring man.

_But _he_ left his number_, my mind helpfully chimed in.

"Fuck it," I mumbled to myself and pressed redial on the phone. On the second ring, it picked up.

"Hello?" the deep, gruff, _unfamiliar_ voice on the other end asked. This was not Ichigo. I was taken aback, unsure how to react or what to think about this.

"Uh, hey. I'm calling for Ichigo." I prayed that the beautiful orange-haired man hadn't given me a fake number. And who the hell had answered the phone if this _was_ the right number?

"Yeah, sure. Just got outta the shower," the voice answered. A sigh of relief – I at least got a real number. But who was this other guy? A roommate? I heard the deep-voiced man call to Ichigo and the shuffling as the phone traded hands.

"Hello?" Ichigo's voice alone made Renji's cock stir. Fuck, but that kid was hot.

"Hey, Ichigo. It's Renji."

"Oh hey. Did you wanna hang out again?" Quick, straight (_hah, straight!_) and to the point. The way Ichigo said 'hang out' implied the nasty, dirty, _sexy_ kind of things, the thought of which made my dick harden further.

"Heh, yeah. You didn't stay long enough for me to make you breakfast." I tried to make his voice lower, huskier, sultrier before he asked, "Would you let me make you dinner?" _I'll make him dinner alright – I could eat that kid all night._ There was a charged pause on the other end. Ichigo was considering the offer – weighing his options.

"When can I come over?" I nearly jumped off the sofa, pumping his fist in the air. Success!

"Tomorrow night okay? Do you remember how to get to my place? We were both kinda drunk last time…" I let the thought hang. I was completely hard now, thinking of that night and looking forward to the next.

"Tomorrow's great. I can find my way – I have a great sense of direction," the orange-head replied.

This was the most awkward part – getting off the phone. _So I can go get off_. Then I heard a small laugh.

"This is awkward, ne?" said Ichigo, reading my mind. "I'll see you tomorrow though." Ichigo sounded so confident, so smooth, but unassuming and naïve at the same time. Did the kid know that he was so irresistible?

"Yeah, great. See you then. Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up, and then let out a breath I'd unconsciously been holding. Setting the phone down, I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the water. I stripped quickly and untied my hair before stepping into the shower. I let the hot water run down my face, over my back and down my tattooed chest as I fisted my cock. I started with long, slow strokes from base to tip, paying special attention to the head and pushing a nail into the slit. As I sped up, I imagined Ichigo sucking and tonguing my cock – I wanted to fuck that pretty mouth and make the kid swallow my cum. I sucked the middle finger of my left hand into my mouth, coating the digit in saliva. Once it was sufficiently lubricated, I ran the finger down my spine, along my crack, circling my entrance once, twice, before I pushed the finger inside. A groan escaped my lips, a low rumble in my chest. I felt for the gland so familiar to me in these moments of self-indulgence, and ran my finger over it, massaging and pressing down. My dick jerked with each press, and precum leaked from the tip. As I approached my orgasm, I pumped my cock with increasing speed until cum covered my hand and a portion of the shower wall. Breathing heavily, I cleaned my hands and then finished my shower in a pleasant haze. I couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

Tomorrow had come. I went to work, anticipating the evening so much that time had seemed to slow, the day dragging on and on. I willed the clock to move faster, to no avail. I fidgeted at my desk; I checked my phone for messages every few minutes; I could hardly keep my eyes off the clock. As soon as four-thirty rolled around, Iwas already out of the office and on my way home to make dinner.

I made shrimp tempura, a veggie stir-fry and taiyaki. While I usually enjoyed being in the kitchen, I was so excited that I could hardly think about eating. My stomach twisted and nearly jumped into my throat when I heard a knock on the door. Ichigo was here. _Fuck yes!_

I smiled as I opened the door – a wolfish grin that stretched my face into the look of a large cat about to pounce on its dinner. Ichigo commented on the food – "Smells fantastic!" – as he walked in the door. He blushed as he eyed the couch where lustful acts had taken place just days before. My grin stayed plastered on my face as I watched the blood rush not only to Ichigo's face. I only hoped we would be able to wait until after dinner.

We did. Ichigo complimented the cooking several times, and every time I would blush and stammer that I wasn't that talented, it was actually pretty easy, it wasn't a big deal. I began to expect that the other man liked to see me blush. There would be a lot of later if I figured out a way to make a move without seeming desperate or too forward. I was pleasantly surprised when Ichigo leaned across the small table to kiss me.

Ichigo ran his tongue over the seam of my lips, effectively asking for permission inside. I granted it eagerly; Ichigo, once inside, pulled back to let me dominate the kiss, allowing my pierced tongue to play with Ichigo's own. I laved the smaller man's tongue with mine, then sucked and nibbled on the orange-head's bottom lip before pulling away to 1) catch my breath, 2) look at the other man, made even more beautiful with a lustful flush staining his cheeks, and 3) ask:

"Would you like to move this to the bedroom?" my voice had dropped to a very low, raspy whisper. I was half-hard already, and dying to get inside Ichigo for a second round.

Ichigo just smiled – that stunning expression I had fallen for in the first place – with smoky eyes, and he nodded. I grabbed his hand and practically dragged the slighter man to the bedroom. I then pushed Ichigo against the wall next to the door, claiming his mouth again. I made my body flush with the other's, pressing my hips against Ichigo's body, and groaning in intense pleasure as I felt the orange-head's hard cock grinding against mine. _This kid is fucking irresistible_, I thought as I tried to control my body, not wanting to move too quickly, which would ruin the moment. I inhaled slowly and deeply in an attempt to cool my overheated body and soothe my overactive nerves, but instead only inhaled Ichigo's scent – salty sweat, sweet cologne and the musky aroma of sex assaulted my senses, making my heart race faster. I was sure it would burst from my chest at any moment.

Ichigo ran his hands up from my hips, under my shirt and over my hard abs. I shivered in response to the other's touch, and I let out a sigh. Ichigo lifted my shirt over my head. Letting the garment fall to the floor, the orange-head leaned forward and ran his tongue over the bold black lines that swirled across my chest. The action provoked another long sigh, followed by a grunt as I threw Ichigo onto the bed. I laid my body over the other's and claimed his mouth in a searing kiss.

Reaching into the bedside table drawer, I fumbled for lube and a condom. When I found them, I blindly set them on the table and moved my kisses down Ichigo's neck. I bit lightly at the junction where neck met shoulder, laving over the mark with my tongue. Ichigo's skin was salty, and just a bit tangy; I couldn't seem to get enough of the taste. The orange-head arched into every swipe of my agile tongue, whined with each nipping kiss as I blazed a trail down Ichigo's body. I teased the man beneath me, distracting us both with dirty talk while I slathered my fingers with lube. Without preamble, I thrust my fore- and middle-fingers into Ichigo.

"That's right, baby. Scream for me," I scissored my fingers and curled them just so, probing harshly at Ichigo's prostate. He squeezed his eyes shut and panted, chest heaving while I egged him on. "You should see yourself right now, Ichi. Two of my fingers deep in your ass and you begging for more – you little slut." At that, Ichigo opened his eyes wide in surprise, then his lids fell to half-mast in pure lust as he moaned wantonly. I locked eyes with my lover and continued. "So you like being called a slut, do you, Ichi?"

A keening whine from Ichigo.

"Oh, yeah. You love my fingers," I said, voice dropping to a husky rumble. I added a third finger. Ichigo was hot, tight and silky inside. He groaned. "You want more? Do you want another?"

Another whine. Ichigo bit his lip, and I closed my eyes, imagining myself with my whole hand inside… No. That would be too much. But there was no reason I couldn't add the image to my spank bank. _Back to the matter at hand. Hehe. Hand._

"Do you want another finger Ichigo? Hmmm?" He didn't answer, but bit his lip and regarded me with dark chocolate orbs, nearly all pupil now. "Or would you like this?" I asked, fisting my throbbing cock.

I'd never seen a more enthusiastic nod in my life.

Lying in my bed the next day, I wondered if Ichigo was trying to kill me with sex. After no less than four rounds, the strawberry-blond had looked at his partner with false innocence twinkling in his pretty (Really, they were. There was absolutely no other way to describe them.) eyes and asked if I would like a blow job. I considered myself lucky that I hadn't passed out from blood-loss immediately.

After we both did pass out, I awoke alone and wondered where my exquisitely warm body pillow had gone. I also wondered why it was that Ichigo always left while I was sleeping. While I appreciated a quick and satisfying fuck as much as the next guy, I felt more than lust for Ichigo. It was scary to admit, even to myself, but I was falling for the other man. Though I barely knew anything about Ichigo, I felt as though maybe we could share more than just a fling. At least, that was my hope.

I pulled myself out of bed and got ready for work. At the office, I noticed my coworker and friend Shuuhei acting somewhat oddly, but I couldn't concentrate on anything other than Ichigo. By five o'clock, I had accomplished only an hour of real work and was behind on three projects. While I should have been freaking out, I found myself unable to care. As soon as I got home, I was going to call Ichigo.


	3. Imagination

Ichigo was trying to kill me. That was the only conclusion I could draw from the nearly endless sex we were having. At one point, my dick was actually too sore to let Ichi blow me. Yeah, I'd started calling him Ichi. There wasn't anything official, we just had dinner at my place once or twice a week and then he left before I woke up in the morning. I would have loved to be able to call him my boyfriend – shit, my dick really _loved_ that idea; it twitched to life every time I saw or read or thought the word – but he hadn't sent me any signals that he wanted to go that direction. As it was, I was taking all I could get from him, and it wasn't a little. That kid did everything I had ever fantasized about and then some.

Kinky slut.

My slut.

Fuck, I needed to stop thinking about him. He really was gonna kill me. And I was gonna die a happy man.

Two weeks later, I realized Ichigo and I had never gone on a date. Not a real date. We met at the club, then kept having meals at my apartment followed by lots of sex, but we had never gone out. I might not have had much money, but I wasn't a cheapskate. I also would have jumped at any chance to show off Ichigo in public. He acted shy about his body, but he was a hot piece if I ever saw one.

Ichigo and I had just finished the pizza I had made – margherita style – and I kinda felt like a movie. Or bowling. I love bowling.

"Hey, baby, you wanna go out tonight? We could go see a movie, and maybe even go to your place. I've never seen it." It seemed a simple request.

I suppose I shouldn't have asked. Ichigo looked like he might try to make a run for it, the way his eyes darted to the door. I didn't even mean anything by it, although I had been a little suspicious, I wasn't bothered by the fact that we always met up at my place. Pure curiosity along with my complete inability to keep my mouth shut had led me to inquire about the circumstance, and now Ichigo was going to run out on me.

"Wait, baby. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer. He didn't try to pull away, but he didn't close the space between us, either. His eyes downcast, bangs in his face, he whispered.

"We can't go to my place. I have a boyfriend. I live with him," he said. He never once looked up. While my mind raced, a million thoughts buzzing through my head, not a single one would come to my lips. I suddenly was reminded of the strange phone-voice I had been met with the first time I called Ichigo. That explained a lot. I couldn't speak. There were simply no words for this situation. Especially because I didn't want Ichigo to leave. I wanted to keep seeing him. Like that would ever work. And who_ wanted_ to be the guy on the side? Apparently me. Guilt and shame battled with a foreign arousal in my head; I had never cheated in my life, but I had to admit, the thought turned me on. Forbidden fruit, and all that. Ichigo finally looked up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave," he said, turning toward the door, my hand still wrapped around his arm. Pulling gently, but firmly, I brought his chest flush with mine and wrapped my arms around him. What the hell was I doing? I had just passed the point of no return; I was in deep and just digging, digging, digging…

I couldn't say anything through the lump that had formed in my throat. My chest tightened to the heartache I knew would come, but I held onto Ichigo as if I were a drowning man, and he was a life preserver. Nervous energy pulsed throughout my body; I wanted to jump out of my own skin. I had always been shit at keeping secrets, lying, and God knows I'd never done anything like this before, but I just couldn't seem to stop myself. A gentle finger tilted Ichigo's chin, angling his face just right, and I kissed him. I kept kissing him. All higher brain functions shut down and I only came back to myself after the fact.

* * *

The ringing of the phone reverberated in my brain. The knowledge of the caller's name sent a shock of guilt and desire through my whole being. Before the second ring, I had already conceded to do what I knew was so incredibly wrong. I let the guilt and shame wash through my body, desperately praying for the strength to ignore the phones cries. Prayers left unanswered, as usual.

"Hello, Ichigo," I answered, not bothering to pretend at this point. "When do you want me to come over?"

"Renji," Ichigo whispered on the other end, "he's gone for now. I don't think Grimm will be back tonight. Come stay with me." Ichigo practically begged.

"I don't know if I can stay the night, love," the I tried softened my refusal with endearments. "I can come over for a while though." I paused, waiting for tears and more begging from the other. Why did I continue to do this to myself?

"Alright," Ichigo resigned calmly – no tears, no pleas.

"Um, gimme a half-hour," I faltered, surprised by the lack of protest. I hung up after that. I saw no need for more conversation. That wasn't how we functioned. Not anymore.

I grabbed my wallet and keys and was out the door, slamming it behind me. _Dammit all anyway._ Ichigo lived with his boyf – _no, don't think about that _ – lived across town, and the cab ride gave me too much time to think. I knew this affair was wrong – so wrong – but I couldn't help but capitulate to Ichigo's every desire. That kid emanated some kind of gravitational force that pulled in everyone around him and held on so tight that it was completely impossible to resist him. When the strawberry-blonde looked at mewith lust and some other unnameable thing – like _I_ was his own personal savior – I could do nothing _but_ lavish Ichigo with kisses and careful caresses meant to steal him away from everything else. Letting go of him was defeat – heartbreak and shame every time.

I had never meant for this to happen. Jesus, when I met Ichigo I wasn't even looking for a relationship; I hadn't been _looking_, period. Ichigo made the first move. Ichigo left his phone number. Ichigo called nearly every week, begging me to keep him company. I couldn't believe how far I'd let this go. And what was this new scheme? Ichigo's acting submissive and resigned on the phone disturbed me nearly as much as the knowledge of what I was heading across town to do. Something was up, and I had the feeling it wouldn't end well.

When I arrived at the apartment, the door stood slightly ajar. Ichigo sat on the small sofa in the living room – just beyond the entrance sat the source of my continually broken heart. I took the seat next to my illicit lover and put my arms around the strawberry-blonde.

"Lonely tonight, sweetheart?" I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the oppressively calm atmosphere. I balked internally at my own forwardness. Didn't I know Ichigo was spoken for? I was cheating! We were betraying someone – whether that someone knew or even cared, I had no idea. That I knew his name – Grimmjow – made me sick to my stomach. _What in the hell am I doing?_

"Yeah, another business trip," Ichigo sounded only slightly remorseful, and didn't mention _his_ name, for which I was infinitely grateful. "It's been a long time. I missed you."

Ichigo finally looked up, chocolate meeting burgundy; soft, full lips meeting thin, chapped ones in an act of screaming, sinful desperation. Misery and desire leaked into the kiss, tainting the sweet and gentle action. Ichigo took the lead (_at least he's back to normal – maybe_), slipping his tongue into my too-willing mouth, and sucking on my lower lip. I moaned into the kiss, doubts and guilt and shame flowing out of my body with every breath.

Lust overtaking my body and mind, I reached for Ichigo, hands roaming the strawberry's back, his hard, flat stomach, his round, firm ass and finally rubbing his palm over my lover's hardness. Raising his hips to meet my touch, Ichigo let out a low moan and bit down on my lip. The hint of pain only aroused me further; outer pain matching inner– I was so hard it hurt. I needed to be inside the smaller man, _now._

I nearly rent Ichigo's shirt in my haste. Once shirtless, Ichigo was laid down on the sofa and attacked with biting kisses. I paused at Ichigo's nipples, sucking until they became hard peaks, then flicking them with my tongue. Obscenely arching his back, the strawberry-blonde let slip a groan low in his throat. Ichigo's purring encouraged me as I moved south, all the while I palmed my lover's erection through the tight denim that made Ichigo's ass look so… _edible_. Nipping kisses and licks on the lightly tanned stomach preluded all-too-loud unzipping of jeans and all-too-lewd sucking noises radiating from the center of the room. I had one leg bent on the sofa, straddling Ichigo's knees, and the other on the floor, shakily bracing this precarious position over my lover.

I looked up at Ichigo from where my lips were wrapped around the other man's member. I pulled my head back, releasing the strawberry-blonde with a wet 'pop.' When I met Ichigo's face, it was flushed from arousal.

"How 'bout we move this to be bedroom, love?" my husky voice was always tender and soft when I spoke to my Ichigo. _He's not yours_, a voice kept chiding me. Goddamn conscience! I ignored it – everything was too far gone to care anymore.

Ichigo could only nod, as I grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. Then I finished removing his pants before we made our way to the bedroom. Upon shutting the door, Ichigo slammed me against the wall with forceful, teeth-clacking kisses and fruitless attempts to disrobe me. I smiled against Ichigo's mouth, breaking our kiss only to remove my T-shirt. As I unbuckled my belt, I entertained the idea of tying my lover's hands to the bed with it; the thought was quickly dismissed. I could never do that to _my_ Ichigo – _he'll never be yours_, a helpful voice reminded – no matter how hot it would be. Our time together was precious – it was not to be wasted with power games, or fucking. We came together to make love (the occasional bite, nail marks and rough play aside). I hated how corny and weak it sounded, but I had no other way to describe our meetings. My words and caresses were tender; I took care to give my partner as much pleasure as possible, and I wanted nothing more than to stay to hold Ichigo while the strawberry-blonde slept, exhausted from their activities. But though I lov – no, I could never admit that – cared so much for this man, I snuck away after Ichigo was asleep, checking the apartment for evidence of our affair. I never left any part of myself behind, except my hungry, empty heart.

I pushed away from the wall, my heart dropping into my stomach as I realized – not for the first time – that the bed I would be sharing with the strawberry actually belonged to someone else. I walked with a sinking feeling until the backs of Ichigo's knees hit the edge of the bed. The smaller man fell gracefully backwards, me between his parted legs. Lips moved together sensually, a dance as practiced as the lies they told. I pressed against Ichigo, rubbing our burning, heavy lengths together as I pumped my hips. Ichigo tangled his fingers in my hair, alternately massaging the scalp and tugging just hard enough to make me moan into the kiss. Just as I pulled away to ask about lube, Ichigo locked eyes with me.

"Renji, I need you so bad. Please, baby, I want you inside of me," Ichigo begged. In that moment, I saw in those beautiful chocolate eyes that Ichigo had planned this all along. A knowing glance passed between them, and I suddenly knew I was being used. I was just a toy for this kid's sick game – his display of power over me. Ichigo had hand-picked me for my weaknesses; my passivity in relationships doubled with my penchant for guys with wild hair had led me to this point. What was the purpose of the game? Was this to show Ichigo's boyfriend something? _Why the hell is he doing this?_ I thought. _I am such a tool. And I don't even know why!_ And the look was gone as soon as it had come, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth – bile was rising in my throat. My heart grew suddenly empty, and my pain tainted the lust until my kisses became cruel bites. Ichigo didn't seem to mind – the harder I dug my teeth into Ichigo's shoulder, pulled his orange locks, bruised his hip with white-knuckled grip, the louder the smaller man moaned. He arched higher into my touch and pulled on my long red locks. I ceased my attack for only a moment in order to fish a condom out of the pocked of my long-discarded jeans.

Throwing the colorfully wrapped package to the side to pick up later, I offered my fingers which Ichigo eagerly accepted into his mouth, sucking and massaging them with his wickedly talented tongue. "That's right – ah – suck. Mmmm – you like it, doncha, Ichi?" I moaned and the strawberry-blonde scraped his teeth across my large knuckles. Pulling my hand away, I traced a path down Ichigo's body, leaving a sticky path in the wake. My dark red eyes filled with lust when I saw my finger disappear into my lover. I didn't wait long before adding a second finder, scissoring them to stretch the tight entrance. Ichigo began to whine.

"More. I n-need – ah! Right there! – need you – mmmmm – now. Ah! Please! Please!" I still couldn't find the strength to deny my soon-to-be-ex-lover, but I supposed it couldn't hurt to tease him just a bit. Smirking, I leaned down to kiss Ichigo as I slipped the condom on.

"Ah, Ichi. You make me so hard," I leered when Ichigo let slip a throaty moan. "You want this, huh?" I asked as I rubbed the tip of my cock against tight, impatient heat. "You sure, _love_?" The last word dripped with sarcasm, where previously there had been only adoring sincerity. Ichigo didn't notice, growling low in his throat – a wanton sound, never before having a place in our coupling. He was cut off abruptly by me slamming in to the hilt.

I gave little time for my partner to adjust to my size before I began pistoning in and out of the hot – _impossibly hot_ – tight passage. My body cried out for movement, friction, _satisfaction_. Ichigo's whimper at the initial invasion quickly turned into panting moans and demands, _faster, harder! _

I pulled away from my orange-haired partner, the latter giving a disappointed sigh at the sudden loss of contact, until he was flipped onto his stomach by my strong hands.

"Oh god, yes! Renji, baby, please, I want you to fuck me so hard I can't walk tomorrow!" Ichigo nearly screamed, no doubt waking the neighbors. _So much for this being a secret._ I didn't answer, but shoved back into Ichigo, causing more screaming. At that point, I couldn't bring myself to care. Over and over, I thrust into the wanting body underneath me, but it wasn't enough to slake my lust, heightened by anger. I just wanted to cause pain, to hurt Ichigo. I dug my hand into the short, orange locks and tugged. Hard. The smaller man cried out and then moaned.

"Oh fuck, yes! Yes! Ah! Harder!"

_Dammit all._ I cursed the other to every dark corner of hell for being so masochistic. Then, the walls closed down around my cock, impossibly tight, as Ichigo came. My rhythm faltered, but I continued his hard, fast thrusts. The body below me sagged; Ichigo no longer supported his weight on his arms, but had fallen face-first onto the bed. My hand still tangled in Ichigo's hair, I pulled the smaller man back by his head, neck craning at an uncomfortable angle, and bit down on Ichigo's shoulder. I pounded erratically into the orange-haired man, hitting my own climax as I listened to Ichigo's muffled whimpers of pain.

Supporting myself on shaky legs, I made my way to the bathroom. I tried not to meet my reflection's eyes as I wiped blood from my lips. I would most definitely need a cigarette after this. And a drink – _something strong. _I left without a word to the man on the bed – there was nothing more to say. I would not be back, and we both knew it. I slammed the door on my way out, and even made it all the way to my own bedroom before the unwanted tears burned a hot trail down my face. Angry, at Ichigo, at myself, I punched a hole in the drywall of my bedroom wall. I needed that drink.


	4. Passion

I stood in the shadows of the unlit kitchenette as I watched the latest conquest leave our flat. This one, a brunette – _huh_ – looked grey and hollow. All the light had left those pretty brown eyes that Ichigo had fallen for. It was almost sad how easily this one had broken. At least the redhead had had the guts to come back, yelling and breaking shit. I wouldn't have minded letting him have a go at me; with that temper, he had to be great in the sack. He had passion.

That passion could be felt even after he had gone for the last time – storming out the broken door, punching walls and taking down framed pictures. The fire he'd left behind lapped at my insides. That only-just-restrained fury and violence throbbed in the confines of the small flat – burning, smoking, suffocating. It made me want. It made me need. _Damn_.

So this brunette left, tail between his legs – _what a pussy_ – never once noticing my watching him. When the door shut softly behind him, I made my way to the bedroom. It was time to see what he did to my Ichigo.

The orange-head's snores met my ears and I instantly knew that he had come _hard_. The kid was an insomniac – barely ever slept, except after fucking. Unconsciousness aside, plenty of evidence was laid out in front of me. His ass sported large, angry handprints and his back a deep bite. _Wait, is that bleeding?_ My cock twitched at the thought. Then I noticed the brunette's cum seeping slowly out of my boyfriend's abused hole, and I was hard. It only partially occurred to me that my arousal was totally fucked up. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that normal people didn't get hard at the knowledge that they were being cheated on. _Whatever_.

I reached out with one hand and roughly fingered the bleeding wound on Ichigo's back. He whimpered under my touch, but didn't wake. Grabbing his hips violently, I flipped my sleeping lover over and fisted his cock with long, even strokes. Awake or not, I hoped he had it in him for another round. I used my other hand to finger-fuck him; the little slut could never get enough of that. As I expected, he was rock-hard in no time, so I climbed onto the bed and straddled Ichigo's hips. With no prep, I lined his cock up with my hole and slammed home. The exquisite burn forced me to still for only a moment, and then I was riding my boyfriend like there was no tomorrow. _I wonder if he'll wake up,_ I thought absently, my attention focused on finding just the right angle to – there!

I groaned, loudly. Eyelids heavy, they eventually fell completely, and I rolled my hips while fantasizing about the redhead. That hair – god, how I wanted to yank on that hair until he screamed – until he threw me down and maybe even…

"Grimmjow?" Well, that just ruined my fantasy. With Ichigo awake, I had to pray that he didn't go soft on me. His eyes were open to just slits, and I watched the confusion slowly give way to something between anger and lust. He _really_ hated topping.

"Yeah, baby. It's me," I all but whispered in the quiet only interrupted by the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. _Just hold on a little longer, Ichigo_.

"Grimm, st – ah!" Just as he began his protest, I clenched down, squeezing hell out of his dick, and I knew he loved it. He glared at me, to no effect.

"Just hold on a little – ah! – longer for me, baby. Just a lit – fuck, yes!" Every stab was hitting my prostate _perfectly_, lighting my body on fire, and I was so close. Without realizing it, Ichi had begun to thrust in time with me. His hands were on my hips. I grabbed my cock and a mere three pulls got me off.

"Are you going to finish me off or not?" Ichigo asked, obviously annoyed. I had no idea how long I'd spaced out, but, opening my eyes, I saw my cum drying on his stomach and chest and a glare that could kill at least a small animal. I momentarily toyed with the idea of letting him take care of himself, but dismissed it. I moved to sit against the headboard and motion for Ichigo to come sit in my lap, back to my chest. I wouldn't be able to fuck him; I was spent, but I had plenty of other ideas.

"Suck," I demanded, thrusting three fingers into my Ichi's mouth. He eagerly accepted them and began to coat them in spit. With my other hand, I shoved two fingers into Ichi's hole with no warning. Luckily that other guy, Shuu-something, had been kind enough not to use a rubber; Ichi was nice and slick for me. It wasn't long until I had a third, and then a fourth finger pumping in and out of my lover as he whined around the digits in his mouth. I started to growl and filth spouted from my lips.

" I betcha want me to get my thumb in there, doncha, Ichi? You fucking whore, you'd love it if I fisted you, got my hand elbow-deep in your ass, wouldn't you?" I could barely believe what I was saying, but it wouldn't stop. "You love to be filled to the brink, doncha?"

He moaned, shuddering so sweet in my arms.

"You want something else in your ass, doncha baby?"

A nod. A groan when I bit his neck just hard enough to bruise.

I none-too-gently pulled my fingers from Ichi's hole, reaching blindly into the bedside drawer for his favorite toy. _I rather like it too... _Cock starting to stir, I ground my hips into that delectable ass.

"On your knees, bitch," I growled. Ever the obedient servant, Ichigo hurried to comply. I spit on the flesh-colored dildo – it measured over an inch-and-a-half in diameter, and no amount of prep would help my little orange-head without some lube – and touched it to his entrance.

"Grimm, please," he said, voice cracking.

"Please, what?" _Ain't I a tease?_

"Please, please, fuck me. I need it inside me." Begging now. I loved it.

I let my voice turn to a whisper. Soft, but stern. "One more time, baby. Say it one more time."

The orange-head turned so I could see his chocolate eyes. His reply was soft, filled with need. "Please fuck me, Grimm. I want to be filled up." _Who am I to say 'no' to a face like that?_

I slammed the dildo home, dick growing completely hard as I watched my boyfriend's hole twitch, trying to swallow around the intrusion. Pulling out, leaving only an inch or so inside, then shoving back in. I repeated that move over and over, never once hitting Ichi's prostate, though I knew just the right angle to get it. I planned to make him wait.

"Oh God! Grimm! Oh fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ Please – pl-please, I need to – I need to – ah! - cum!" The last word a long, drawn out moan, Ichigo begged me – he was _very_ good at begging – to finish him. I refused to give him what he wanted. At least, not until I'd had my fun. I could tell him it was punishment for cheating, but he'd probably love it. _My little pain bitch._

I grinned, some might say evilly.

"I don't know, Ichi. Do you deserve to cum?" I asked sweetly. The only response I received was a low moan, followed by a much louder curse. I began to pull the toy out, the whine Ichigo let out going straight to my groin. I hissed – my cock couldn't help but love the sounds my long-time boyfriend made in the heat of the moment, and bobbed in time with my pounding heartbeat. I stopped when only the "head" of the fake cock remained inside.

"Come on, Ichi. Tell me what I wanna hear," I coaxed. I teased his hole, rotating the toy in small circles, still not pushing back in. I waited patiently for the answer.

"Ma – Master, please let me cum. Please let Your slut cum," Ichigo begged in his most submissive voice; slightly higher pitched, but raspy and sexy as hell. I groaned deep in my throat, then pulled the dildo roughly out of Ichigo and threw it aside as he whined at its absence.

Then I slammed into him.

He screamed.

I thrusted.

His passage tightened around my dick as I nailed his prostate one, two, three times in a row.

I came inside my boyfriend, and we lay together covered in our own sweat and cum. I felt myself grow soft inside him and slip out just before I fell asleep.

I dreamed of long red hair and bold tattoos.

When I woke up, Ichigo was gone.


End file.
